


Disaster

by russomaha



Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: Bodyguard, Dancing, Dorks in Love, Dorks in love being oblivious, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Kiza is a force of nature, bodyguard!Caine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-03 22:09:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13350519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/russomaha/pseuds/russomaha
Summary: For the last two weeks Kiza had been relentlessly pestering her friend to take a break from her never-ending queenly duties, go back to Earth and let her hair down.“Can I just undo my coiffure?”“No! We’ll go dancing!”





	Disaster

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VR_Trakowski](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VR_Trakowski/gifts).



> _For wonderful VR_Trakowski for having taught me the word ‘coiffure’ and being a joy and inspiration in general. Thank you for all the brilliance and effort you have been pouring into this fandom. It’s appreciated like you wouldn’t believe._
> 
> _Okay, I’m done fangirling now._

 

This night out feels like a complete disaster. At least to Jupiter it does: she has some guy with no concept of personal space dancing next to her while she valiantly tries to evade his ever-daring hands and other body parts, Caine is sulking in the corner, dark and brooding like a murderous thundercloud, and only Kiza seems to be having a great time – enviably so.

For the last two weeks Kiza had been relentlessly pestering her friend to take a break from her never-ending queenly duties, go back to Earth and let her hair down.

“Can I just undo my coiffure?”

“No! We’ll go dancing!”

The idea didn’t evoke the enthusiasm Kiza was aiming for.

As a newbie queen, Jupiter had been forced to take dancing lessons. She would have thought that interplanetary economics tutorials had been a much better use of her time – not that she didn’t have them – but apparently, dancing was a skill necessary for any Entitled. Making alliances and conducting important negotiations while dancing at private balls and public assemblies was considered a comme il faut practice. So she’s been enduring dance practice sessions ever since, which effectively sucked all the fun out of the activity.

Sadly, Kiza didn’t take a “no” for an answer. She possessed an uncanny ability to steamroll Her Majesty into almost anything. But then again, after having to make crucial decisions and order people around all day, being a pushover once in a while felt almost nice. Almost.

Apparently, an incognito girls’ night out involving a royalty also involved Caine tagging along with them. After having been kidnapped three times in a row, Jupiter had come to agree with Commander Apini, the Head of her Royal Guard, that security is not something to be sniffed at.

So she had to have a few bodyguards with her at all times. On rare occasions when she put her foot down and insisted that she didn’t want a whole entourage of armed stoic men parading around her for a while, she had only two options – Stinger or Caine, because Commander didn’t trust anyone else to guard her precious royal rear single-handedly.

And taking Stinger to a seedy dance club for a night of debauchery initiated by his own daughter –

Well, “awkward” didn’t begin to cover it.

That is how Jupiter has found herself on the dance floor with some random guy gyrating next to her. Or, rather, all over her. Oops, what is that suspiciously hard elongated object rutting on her backside? Guess it’s time to turn around. Ugh, now she has to crane her neck to avoid her mouth being slobbered all over. Great, he’s taken it as a chance to drool on her neck. Gods, this is embarrassing.

Why is she doing this, again? Oh yeah, she’s been determined to endure anything the night throws her way so that she will have every right to bitch about it to Kiza later. _Royally_.

With every passing minute the prospect seems increasingly lackluster.

Jupiter seeks out Kiza over the shoulder her dancing – if you can call what he’s doing that – partner. The girl happens to be swaying nearby, tightly entwined with someone of indiscernible gender, obviously enjoying herself (Stinger would have been indeed a disastrous choice for the night). Managing to catch her gaze, Jupiter makes an unhappy moue at her friend, but Kiza, the traitor, gives a thumb-up at her desperation. Feeling betrayed – _Et tu, Brute?_ – Jupiter starts looking for Caine, in dire need for some moral support.

She knows his eyes have been trailing her vigilantly all night – not really looking at her, per se, but continuously scanning the crowd around, trying to detect any possible threats. Caine obviously takes his guarding duties very seriously. Gods, he takes everything so freaking seriously she can’t but silently agree with Kiza each time the girl tells her big buddy to “get that stick out of his derrière” (yes, Kiza’s eloquent like that).

Unsurprisingly, Caine is still lurking in the corner Kiza shooed him off to so that he wouldn’t “glare guys off our Mighty Majesty here”, wearing the same stoic expression as ever, yet somehow managing to look utterly miserable while doing it.

Deliberately making an eye contact with her guard, Jupiter makes a long-suffering face, rolling her eyes and lolling her tongue to the side, then looks pointedly at her dance partner. She can’t really see it from across the dimly-lit room, yet somehow she _feels_ Caine’s eyes light up, his stiff posture coming to life as he nods in understanding.

A few moments later he materializes beside her with a polite “Mind if I cut in,” which isn’t really a question. His tone brooks no arguments and so does his stance. No one owns glowering and intimidating on par with Caine. Well, maybe Stinger does, when he tries reining Kiza in. Not that it really works, in the latter case.

Well, with Caine it _works_ , and she’s momentarily struck dumb by the elegance with which his bulky body insinuates itself in front of her ex-(thank gods!)-partner,  seamlessly slipping into motion next to her, flawlessly merging with the music, taking to it like a duck – a swan, really – takes to water. She can’t help but admire Caine’s graceful, fluid movements, so in tune with the music they appear meticulously choreographed.

He’s moving unfamiliarly close to her – she’s so used to him keeping a deferential distance – yet never actually brushing her skin. As she has learnt, a splice touching an Entitled, let alone a royal, without an immediate threat or explicit permission is considered an assault that entails a severe punishment. Too bad this rule doesn’t apply to other Entitled, Jupiter ponders ruefully, recalling her interactions with her self-proclaimed “sons”.

“Your Majesty?” comes a soft question from her guard – he’s probably concerned if he’s overstepped his boundaries.

“Smooth, Caine, smooth,” she responds a bit breathlessly, shooting him an approving smile, and his movements falter for a split second before resuming again. “Never thought the members of the Royal Guard are being trained to dance, too,” she looks up at him questioningly. She’s pretty sure that particular hue the tips of his ears are taking is called “maroon”.

“We aren’t,” he mutters, shaking his head, and even that utilitarian gesture somehow manages to be congruous with the music. “It’s just something I do sometimes,” he’s mumbling now, obviously uncomfortable with having to justify his skill, “when I have some time to spare. Not that I get to practice that often.”

“That’s a great hobby,” she offers, hastily tempering her facial expression from “flabbergasted” to “pleasantly surprised”, “I just didn’t expect it from… “– a broody towering heap of muscle wired with deadly reflexes – “…a guy like you.” Caine looks decidedly mortified by now, and Jupiter rushes to add, “Not that it’s not a delightful revelation.”

Feeling her mouth having been sufficiently stuffed with her foot for the moment, Jupiter shuts up and tries to focus on the dancing. Now that the unwelcome touch (and even more unwelcome bodily fluids) have been removed, she finds herself increasingly immersed into that exhilarating trance that comes with letting your body flow whichever way the music takes it. She finally lets herself relax and simply enjoy the moment.

Until a few minutes later they are ushered away from the dance floor by infuriated Kiza.

“I didn’t bring you here to dance with your _bodyguard_ , for gods’ sake,” she hisses at Jupiter, giving her flustered friend her top trademark glare – one can’t possibly get any glarier than that. Kiza is the only being in the universe who can get away with looking at her queen like that. Any other would have been eviscerated by Caine by now. But Kiza is his Achilles’ heel, as well as Jupiter’s, and she knows it. She _owns_ it. “You can dance with your Big Bad Guard back at the alcazar, any moment of day and night. It’s not like you have a chance to visit Earth every day. Stop wasting your opportunities here!”

Jupiter tries picturing herself dancing with Caine back at the palace. It doesn’t work. She has no problems, however, picturing Stinger developing an apoplexy at such an atrocious breach of subordination. Apparently, he’s convinced that he’s the only one who’s allowed to get insubordinate with Jupiter – only when they are one-on-one, clearly. Well, he and Kiza, of course.

“You literally _dragged_ me here to relax and enjoy myself. That’s exactly what I’ve been doing,” Jupiter retorts, resentfulness rising in her chest at Kiza’s intervention. Because she really _has been_. For the last few minutes, at least.

“And you –” Kiza turns to stab an accusing finger into Caine’s sternum, “– what were you doing ruining Mighty Majesty’s fun? I told you –”

Jupiter sees Caine’s face – brightly blushed just a minute ago – visibly pale. He has never shown fear in the face of the enemy, but Kiza is his friend and she’s _terrifying_. The queen jumps at her poor guard’s defense.

“He carried out an effective intervention procedure,” Jupiter interrupts before the tiny menace succeeds in bullying the hulking lycantant into contrition, “upon receiving my urgent plea for help. It was official, too,” Jupiter tacks on, thinking back of her lolling tongue. “Thanks for the rescue back there, by the way,” she adds soothingly, glancing up at Caine, who looks like he’d much rather be fighting sargons right now than dealing with their disgruntled mutual friend.

“Your Majesty,” he exhales, visibly regaining his ability to breathe.

–––

On the way out of the club, Caine ducks his face to Jupiter’s ear and murmurs, “Your Majesty? Thank you for the rescue back there, too.”

She feels herself shiver as his warm breath washes over her neck and decides that the outing hasn’t been such a disaster after all.

–––

The next morning the queen instructs Commander Apini to rearrange Caine’s shifts so he could attend her dancing lessons. They might yet turn out to be fun.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Channing Tatum dancing in _Beautiful Trauma_ video by _P!nk_. Look it up, it’s so worth 4 minutes of your life!
> 
> As usual, apologies for my probable mistakes. I sorely miss actually knowing English.


End file.
